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 |   Blog Challenge And Other Tidbits |
| An opinion or two...or three or four... |
PROMPT May 16th Do you believe in ghosts or other supernatural entities? Have you ever experienced something you could not explain? My mom firmly believed in ghosts, both good and bad. My dad always said there was no such thing. But I think he was really trying to convince himself of that, because he was always a little sensitive to the ethereal unknown. My mom was very sensitive to it but never let it bother her too much. And all of us, me included, are sensitive to one degree or another. And my mom always said, "Never let it in, and never dabble in that stuff." So I never dabbled in that stuff. But for some reason stuff finds me. And teases me. And taunts me. And sometimes just flat out frightens me. So when something happens I try to break it down into explainable parts. Sometimes it works. And sometimes it doesn't. A few years ago I experienced something that definitely couldn't be explained. It didn't terrify me, but I did go home with goosebumps on my arms. Spouse and I decided to take a road trip up into the foothills for a day out. We stopped at quite a few small cities and towns along the way. It was a nice day of shopping and touring. Our last stop was Coloma, a small town that could only be described as quaint. Not much shopping there, nor was there a whole lot to see, but it did have a cemetery of interest. Spouse and I love to walk through old cemeteries. In particular I love to read the stories left behind on the headstones and imagine what life was truly like during that time. Spouse loves to take pictures of the old headstones. I imagine he also wonders what life was like. Now the cemetery in Coloma is a heritage pioneer cemetery. A person can only be buried there if they are descended from one of the original pioneer families. It was the history of all those families that drew us to the cemetery. Both of us were looking forward to learning about some of the oldest families in our region. At first glance the cemetery was like any other cemetery. Headstones lay in long lazy rows among well-groomed grass and greenery. There were two little rolling hills that offered a trail to walk. It was peaceful and quiet. The breeze was warm and the sun peeked through a canopy of oaks and elms and other heritage trees. Spouse and I were anxious to explore. He took the hill to the right and I took the path to the left. I walked slowly, enjoying the breeze and the songs of the birds. Along with the birds I heard another song. A whistle in fact. Someone was whistling a happy little tune. I knew it wasn't Spouse. I just thought someone else may have been on the trail. The whistling continued as I read the headstones and made up stories in my mind. The whistling never stopped. I wondered how someone could keep up a tune for so long. But I put that to the back of my mind. I followed the trail to a little hill. Up I went, still enjoying the breeze. As I was walking my sandal caught on a small rock and I slid down the hill. I landed in a heap on top of a nice woman's grave. I must have let out a yell, because I heard Spouse say he was on the way. He was actually at the far side of the cemetery and it would take a few minutes to reach me. I tried to get up and I felt someone take my arm and gently help me off the ground. I brushed myself off and said, "Thanks, I appreciate that." I assumed I was thanking my husband. But I looked around and he wasn't there. In fact, no one was there. And the whistling had stopped. "Hello," I said to the wind. No answer. No nothing. Spouse finally arrived and asked me what happened. I asked if he was the one that helped me get up. He shook his head, obviously confused. I explained what happened and we both just looked at each other. It must have dawned on both of us at the same time. Because both of us said at the same time, "Looks like it's time to go." And in two short breaths we went back to the car. We shouted, "Thanks for the help" and, "See you some other time." Then we rolled up the windows and locked both doors. We peeled out of the Coloma Pioneer Heritage Cemetery as fast as we could. Now don't get me wrong. I was grateful for the help. And I was glad I got to meet one of the happy old inhabitants. But something so unexpected like that can sure make a person scared and drive them away. We laugh about that incident. In fact, Spouse still teases me about it. And even though we laugh I still wonder who it was that helped me up that day. And what was life like for that happy old soul. |
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